Sunday, 31 May 2009

...no thanks...but thanks for the nightmares!!! >:[I went trundle-wundling down by the river wey with my family folk this morning. 'twas relly quite nice, until we decided to come back on the opposite side. There's a proper tow-path and then there's the field foot-path on the other side. In addition to the necessity of hopping over cow pats *charming* we had to walk inbetween a heard of them to get on our way. We were so close, I could feel their body heat against mine. NEVER AGAIN. just one flapping her little ears at me was fine...even kinda sweet but being surrounded by them? ...creepy.Anyways...back to the land of nod once again tomorrow.someone told me that I've caught a bit of a tan which i'm kinda pleased about. I've got ever so pale skin and find it difficult to tan without burning so I've decided that it's better to sport the, "pale and interesting" look than the, "boiled-red-lobster" look. what do you reckon?anyway, like i was saying before i allowed myself to become distracted by my tan *:D* back to school and the endless work tomorrow...grrrrrrrr. 'twill be lovely to see everyone of my friendly-folk again; i met with some friends on...wednesday-i think...but i've not seen a bunch of people for AGES!! I think i'm gonna go write some more. so far, i've managed about 700 words of my fifth chapter for, "running to".oooh, before i forget to mention it, i watched one of my all-time-favourite movies in the afternoon today, "bill and ted's excellent adventure"...i'm a little in love with keanu reeves...he's an amazing actor who has starred in one of the best trilogies of all time, "the matrix" LOVE IT!! :D

Peace and lovexxxx

p.s recently, i've just been writing and writing so it has kinda gotten on my nerves that people complain about writers' block but i'm finding it difficult to write tonight :(

Thursday, 28 May 2009

So lately, some big things have been muddling themselves in my mind and now I fancy muddling them aloud...God.In the really bad times, the really bad time- when i've fallen out with all my friends and ,my family seem kinda distant- I pray. I don't know whether anyone hears my prayers and I doubt I'll ever know for certain in this lifetime. I ask for help for myself and people I love and the stranger I saw crying. And things get better. Every time I've been on the brink of doing something...stupid, I pray and things get better.This could just be the natural ebb and flow, ups and downs of life...a mere coincidence...but to happen so many times? Perhaps there's more to it than I guess I'm likely to admit any time soon.But to think, at the time of Jesus, so many people believed in something more than everyday life. They believed in a God looking over them and of an afterlife beyond what we can see. Nowadays, people blame those people's beliefs on ignorance. They fell for the whole "heaven malakey" because they weren't aware of science. However, even today, how many people can honestly say that they understand all of the scientific jargon? No, peopl have become deluded by the thought that they don't need a god.I'm not trying to convince anyone to become christian...i'm still trying to figure all this out for myself...i'm just saying :)

Peace and lovexxxx

p.s...on a less important note...i got new shoes!! and in the moment that the nice lady handed them over to me in a shiny bag...i knew things would be okay xD ooh and i bought a couple of dress/skirt/sarong/sari/fabricy-things to wear this summer the other day :Dbisous bisous

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

I remember one in which my headmaster described a time that he took 6 beats from a cane to cover for his friend. 'twas a good story and he told it well but what I always remember from it is that friends are worth the pain we go through sometimes. If you're looking out for them then you can bet your lucky stars that they'll do the same for you. It's good to know that you can at least have a couple of people to rely on.Another one I remember was being told that if everything goes wrong it doesn't matter as long as someone in you life is still there to say, "I love you!"...you know that old, "it's quality not quantity" thing? I guess it's true. I love a lot of people and I like to think that a couple kinda like me back....even if they only like me more than a badgerface... xD

Peace and lovexxxx

p.s i have a crush on tom hanks and i ain't ashamed!! he's a handsome and incredibly talented man :Dhe's not the guy that i referred to in my other post though, 'twould be funny if he was though xD

Monday, 25 May 2009

You gotta dig the classics!! Love it!! Rock on Meatloaf xDI havnae got a lot to say but I have come to an interesting conclusion; I like one person and one person only...Susan Boyle. She rocks my world...anyone hear her singing on Britain's got talent last night? er, wow much??! took my breath away.but seriously, my dilemma of liking two people very much so has been amended. I like one guy. and he's lovely. I know he doesn't like me back but i'm just happy that we're friends :)

Sunday, 24 May 2009

I've been working on this chapter for the past couple of days and I reckon it's pretty good, I enjoyed writing it so I hope you like reading this next installment to the story!!! As always, I urge you to pleeeeease leave some comments!!

Chapter Four; Stranger

I woke up dazedly at around 7.15 am to the sound of a car horn beeping, followed by angry shouts. A fear gripped my stomach, forcing me to wretch but as I was drawn up from my half slumbering sense of perspective, I realised that the sounds were coming from a couple of streets away. Nevertheless, I thought it was best not to hang around for too long. Cursing myself for having fallen asleep in the middle of nowhere, I angrily batted away the last few remnants of dreams from my vision and tugged my phone from out of my pocket. I flicked the screen up and down a couple of times before turning it on and then waited in expectance for the messages to pour in. Vibration after rattling vibration signified the incoming of another voicemail message or text. I’d missed 13 calls...all from home.I scrolled through the texts. They began calm but as the times attached to the messages dragged on; later into the night, they became more and more irrational. The voicemails were full of tearful shrieks from my mother. The last one was my father telling me that the police had been contacted and if there wasn’t news from me within twenty-four hours, I was going to be reported missing. Now, I thought to myself, that wasn’t exactly part of the plan. What plan? You’re only making this up as you go along.

I didn’t want the police to have to waste their time on me. I texted my mother.

Im fine. Dont bovva wiv police. Dont call agen.

Perhaps she deserved more than that but I had to keep moving. If I’d had time I would have spelt everything in proper English but text talk would have to do whilst I was rushing. What I was rushing to-or away from- I wasn’t quite sure but what I did know was that I just had to keep moving.

My first instinct was simply to have something to eat; I hadn’t eaten a proper meal since Mrs. Finbury...I bought a bottle of water & a bag of chips from the nearest café I could hunt out and then ventured onwards into the relative abyss of unknown. I wandered aimlessly around endless bends of grey stretching pavements. All the time, thinking about Mrs. Finbury. Since her death, I’d desperately sought to assure myself that I couldn’t have prevented it but I suppose that in my heart of hearts, I was just going to have to accept the blame sooner or later. If I’d just said something, made an excuse to stay a little longer or insisted that I should stay with her perhaps I wouldn’t be talking about her in past tense. I knew that something was wrong. Why hadn’t I done anything? I dug my fingernails into the palm s of my clenched fists as my furious self-deprecation rose within me. I glanced towards my white knuckles; resenting who I was.I’d been walking for almost an hour straight without even realising it; I was at a train station.

Having lived in semi-rural suburbs for most of my life I have to admit; I’ve never before been on a train before. The last thing that I wanted now was to be recognized for the little girl that I was fast realising I really was. I couldn’t give the game away so I tagged behind a middle-aged man who was carrying a brief-case. It was Wednesday morning so I gathered that he was on his way to work. I peered over his shoulder (somewhat more conspicuously than I’d have hoped for) as he purchased a ticket and then headed through another part of the train station. I did just as he had done, ripped my ticket from the machine and quickened my pace as I headed out of the door in pursuit.I perched on the edge of one of the few remaining seats in the already over-packed carriage in which I was part of.

I risked stealing a glance at the passenger beside me as the train began to move away from the station and roll on steadily. He was a good-looking guy who was, at a guess, a couple of years older than me.He had crazy, wildly curled dark hair, a cute grin and sapphire eyes which twinkled smugly at me as he established that I was attracted to him. In a beetroot-faced flush of shame I turned my head away and pulled my diary from my bag. It was more of an excuse not to look at the mystery man on my right than anything else but as I opened up the pages and clicked my pen; I was consumed by an insatiable desire to write.

Dear Diary,

If I hadn’t experienced the last twenty four hours for myself then I doubt I’d believe any of it at all. This is probably the single maddest thing of my life so far; infact, I’m not likely to ever have a stranger experience. I’m a tom-boy-as everyone at my school frequently likes to remind me; “Oi, Joey, you’re a man”...sophisticated, eh?-but I’ve never really been exactly keen on risk taking. This couldn’t be more out of character for me...

I pause for a moment as I feel myself being watched. Mystery Man with blue eyes is reading what I’m writing...what a cheek! However, I stare intently at my page, in an absolute defiance that I shan’t allow myself to be distracted once again by my own shallow tendencies to swoon at anyone who could pass as a, “handsome prince”.

...I’ve left Dylan with my mother and father and now I’m halfway to nowhere. If I could pinch myself hard enough and force myself to wake up then maybe this would never...

“Ow!”

I don’t believe this, Mystery Man pinched me! He’s definitely being the nosey so ‘n’ so I first predicted he was. Brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in preparation to shout at him out of pure and utter rage I turn to face him. He’s gazing innocently out of the window...he has such a lovely profile...being the superficial nonce I am, all of my anger melts away, along with my heart as he faces me and shoots me with another grin which wouldn’t be out of place in Hollywood. Get a grip Joey, you don’t even know his name.As if reading my mind he offers me his hand and, oozing charm, says,

“Jake. My name is Jake. Now you can put a name to my gorgeous face.” I might be annoyed by his arrogance if I didn’t agree.

I take his hand in my own politely but wish I hadn’t as I realise that my hands are hideously clammy. Every time I come into contact with a boy that I’m at all interested in, I glow with embarrassment and clam up.

Stuttering with nerves; I manage to mutter, “...Er...I’m...J-oey” Well great, not only will he think I’m a sweaty pink fool but my new-found speech impediment is just the cherry on top.

“J-oey, what an interesting name, can’t say I’ve heard it before but I’m not complaining my baby kangaroo”

Right, I don’t care how handsome he may be, he still has no right to treat me in such an impertinent manner.

“Look, Jake,” I hiss with more menace than I’d intended, “I don’t suppose that with your good looks, you’ve ever bothered to develop much smarts so I’ll say this slowly for your benefit,” A little shocked at quite how mean that came across; I pause for a moment, but having managed to regain my angry persona, I enunciate very clearly, “I have been through more crap in this past week than a pretty-boy like you has probably experienced in his entire life so do us both a favour and,” I slow my speaking pace even further and lower the tone of my voice to little more than a snarl, “Leave. Me. Alone.” I wait for his smug grin to deplete and with one final squint of my eyes, I turn away.

I’m well aware that what I’ve just said is quite possibly the nastiest I’ve ever been, however, defiantly, I return to my diary.

“...maybe this would never have happened. I like adventures but this is nonsense. I’m going to lose my head soon if I can’t find something familiar to hold on to. At the mention of, “something familiar” my thoughts return once again to Mrs. Finbury.

Just what would old Mrs. Finbury have to say about all of this? In fact, I already know what she’d say to me. For as long as I can remember, she’s urged me to chase my dreams and find myself something special and new. This couldn’t be more different to my life back home so maybe this is along the lines of her encouragements. I can almost hear her gentle voice, so much younger than her years, meandering its way daintily though the air towards me; the way she always moves...moved. She showed me her old dancing dresses once, they were beautiful. She taught me some steps but no matter how technically good I got from practice, I could never master the natural grace and beauty that she accentuated every time she donned her dancing shoes.

In those memories, I placed my pen in my hoody pocket, closed my diary and then close my eyes.

“Joey, you listen to that hip-hop beep-ity-bop music of today but I bet you’ve never heard real music in your life,”

Mrs. Finbury puts a Vera Lynn record onto her player and expertly adjusts the needle until the song, “We’ll meet again” fills the air. She beckons me over to where she is standing and then takes me by my hands, leading me through the dance steps that are in her blood. We twirl our way through murmurs of, “...keep smiling through, just like you always do...” until the song comes to an end. Her arms wrap around me, embracing me in a perfumed cuddle of happiness that has a peculiarly comforting resonance.

Once again, I’m plucked from slumber, mourning the dream world which my mind’s created as I feel Jake tapping on my arm.

“What do you want Jake?”

“It’s my stop and I can’t get past you.”

Rather embarrassedly, I gather myself out of his way and then, after a thought strikes me, I query,

“London, I have an apartment there, I’ve just been staying with a friend for the past couple of days.”

Jake picks up his bag from the floor and I know that if I don’t say this now, I never will,

“I’m sorry.” My outburst’s just a bit more hurried than I’d hoped but at least I’d apologised. Jake’s standing now, ready to get off at this station but in one moment he faces my direction but gazes intently at the floor.

“...you don’t have to apologise to me...I was a prat and I’m sorry.”

As hard as I try, I can’t stifle a giggle any longer; our cliché apologies sound as though they’ve been yanked out of a 40’s movie. A smile plays across Jake’s face and in that second, I can tell he’s just had the same thought as me. We laugh for a moment before settling into a comfortable silence. I don’t know where I am or where I’m going but I know that I like this boy and wouldn’t mind seeing him again. I pick up my own bag, checking that I haven’t mistakenly left anything lying around and then I say something that I never thought I’s have had the courage to,

“Jake, I haven’t got plans and I’d like to tag along with you...what do you think?” I know that after that childish admittance, I haven’t got a huge chance of him agreeing but miracles do occur...

“Yeah, alright then.”

I follow him off of the train, it’s lunch time and so it’s suitably busy.

“Joey, hold my arm so that we don’t get separated.”

I link my arm obligingly through his and as I do so, I feel a thrilling zing pulse through me. I don’t care if this is just a measure of practicality; I’m linking arms with a handsome older guy...and it’s not bad!

Saturday, 23 May 2009

Hey there!!Sooooooo, school broke up for Half Term holidays yesterday *TG* and I went with an amazing group of people to see Star Trek in zeee cinema...'twas brilliant :D Seriously, I never saw the series but I rekcon that's quite good in some ways as I was able to judge the film as a stand alone piece of cinematic grandure. The acting rocked, the plot was great, there were funny gags and tear-jerking parts as well as kick-ass fight scenes and stunning special effects. Loved, loved, loved it!! Some people would say that this was more of a boy-flick and I'd be tempted to agree but I'd recomend this to anyone that maybe wants to just tune out from, "real life" for a couple of hours. Further more, I was with fabulous company...I really owe someone *thank you*....and I embarrassed another *sorry* but it was still fun...xDAnd then...after rushing to pack bags for events which would later occur, I was whisked away to the land of my youth group, "wired up" We made doughnuts *so good* and danced the hoe-down throw-down...badly....but it was a laugh xDAnd then...Hattie, Elin and I had a sleepover at chez elin *ahem, god of capri sun*. We began watching the first Saw film on DVD *which my brother had kindly leant me* at around half two in the morning and we were rather scared so we switched to the Lizzie Maguire movie *I love Gordo, I really do, I so wanna marry him and don't care who knows it!!*, HOWEVER, the following morning, in the safety of the light of day; we resumed our viewing. One of the good guys got shot and one of my accomplices screamed, "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!!!"....so fecking funny... mwa ha ha....We did some other stuff but I'm not telling...hahaha *tommy, you're no the only one who has trust issues and keeps secrets...so there*We played on the Sims as well; my character is called Kayteiminominomun Sistaaaa and then there's also Hattlyburtmun Sistaaaa *hope I remembered that ok* and my wonderful god of capri sun, miss Elinimomundootocom Sistaaaa....'twas gooooooood.Dearest Hattie had to leave at around one to get to her Nan's in Essex but Elin and I devoured boursin *mmmmmmmmmm* on baguette and then traversed sagely around town going, "ommmmmmmm" no, i lied, we didn't chant....but i was tempted to :O *the shock, the horror* It was great and I loooooved it *yeah*

Knowing me, I've probably gone and forgotten about 80% of everything but have some faith, yesterday/today have been one beautiful, happy, kinda scary, profound and girly time of my life. Thank you Hattie, thankyou godofcaprisun :D

Peace and lovexxxxp.s My little brother martin has taken to calling me, "Kick-ass kate"...it could be worse...Just though I'd share that with you guys!!p.p.s Hope you enjoy the hols, don't forget to breathe!!

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

i know *hope* things will be ok but something awful's happened and there's actually not an thing i can do. i could lose someone that means more than the world to me. I don't think i could do this without her. i don't know if i believe in a god but please, if by any chance there's someone up there. help. she needs it. please.The doctors are great though, they can pump her stomach and fix her but she did this to herself and i don't get it. she's been depressed for well over a year but a thought she was ok recently, we laughed about stupid crap like epic wolves but something's pushed her over the edge and i don't know what.

Monday, 18 May 2009

I've had some really rather pleasant feedback ffor my writing; it's much appreciated but I urge you to be more critical *constructive only please* I know it's not perfect and I'd like you to give me some idea for improvements if you'd be so kind!!For those of you whom are unaware, Miss Ellie the Newbie has joined us here in the blogging revolution. I recomend you take a look-see at her first post! I'm following her so you can find a link from my page to that of she of you please.Well, toodle-pip and all that jazzy stuff...i apolagise for the rather minute length of this post but I regret to inform you that I'm fairly sadly in a rush!!

Sunday, 17 May 2009

Chapter Three; Searching The light of this early winter’s day dwindled feebly and gave way to the night’s dark gaze. My battered converse shoes weren’t as warm as they’d once been and weren’t exactly water proof either. One last kick in the head were the rain drops which decided to throw themselves from the heavy grey clouds clinging to the sky above. I squinted my eyes at the watch on my wrist; wishing to myself that I would have paid the £5 extra for the glow in the dark version, as I struggled to focus on the time. 2.43 am How long have I been walking? I walked the route I take to school and then just kept walking on by. Swirling thoughts had been mingling around with each other inside of my over the past hours but it was only now that I realised that I had no clue of where I was going or what I would or even could do when I got there. In the rush to get away, I’d stuffed my savings, which I usually stash safely under my mattress, into the back pocket of my jeans. £43.78 How long will that last? Hood up, hands in pockets and head down I strode confidently down the pavements I no longer recognised. The last thing I wanted now was to be stopped by some blokes looking to cause trouble for girls like me. I’ve read stories about victims like them. I don’t think I could cope being one of them. I amble past another bus shelter and catch the eye of someone watching me. Fear swells within me now. Calm down Joey. My heart beat’s racing now. You’re overreacting. The stranger’s stare follows me as my right hand feels for the mp3 player in my pocket. I scrabble to turn it up and feel myself begin to relax as the lyrics from “Brothers in a hotel bed” by my favourite band flood into my mind, washing away the real world.“...as our December sun is setting because I'm not who I used to be... Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides ...” With stiff, aching legs I proceed to trudge along, making up conversations in my mind to keep myself company. All the things I wish I’d had the nerve to say but never ever built up the courage to. I check my watch again, feeling my eyes droop lethargically. 3.19 am. I look around me, the dank, orange glow from the streetlamp towering over me isn’t illuminating much of my surroundings but I can’t see anyone. I walk to the left of the pavement and lean wearily against the wall of a building. An air condition unit is pumping out hot air from within the building. Who’s rich enough to use air conditioning in the Winter?I slide my back down the wall until I’m sitting with my knees hugged tightly to my chest. Cars rush past where I’m sitting, along the road. I wonder where they’re going at this time of night. A tangent of muddling thoughts race through my tiring mind and just for a second, I rest my eyes...

I began writing this months ago in English but only started writing again today. It's far from perfect regarding spelling and grammar but I hope you enjoy it. Please give me your feedback :D

Chapter Two; Goodbye The nest week blurred past me in a haze of tears and funeral arrangements. My deprecatory sullen thoughts were broken only by the chimes of clocks and Mother asking me whether I was alright. I remembered back to the promise which I’d silently made to Mrs Finbury find the rest of my soul. Something was far over due for change, infact, some things . For more time than I care to think about, my hand hovered apprehensively over the telephone in my hand. I traced gently over the buttons with one finger, finally I committed and dialled the two numbers which I’d meant to call for two years. “Sandra?”I didn’t wait for a reply before continuing,“I heard you; years ago with Grace. I tried not to care, honestly, I did but you told me lies. Make it right or get out of my life.”A stunned momentary silence of confusion was followed by Sandra’s questioning tone,“Joey, what is th-“I ended the call. I’ve put up with listening to her crap for too long, why should I bother to give her even another minute to insult me? An almost identical call was made to Grace and then I got down to business.Mum and Dad,Even calling such affectionate things seems alien. We’re family but if it wasn’t for your blood running through my veins, I wouldn’t believe it. We live in this house together, but how together are we really?? You can try and deny that things aren’t this bad; it’s easy for you to look the other way, engross yourselves in the lives of our neighbours and convince yourselves that you’re good people who simply don’t get time to be good parents. You barely notice me when I’m here. Would you know that I was leaving if it wasn’t for this letter?Send my love to Dylan.Joey. I stuffed the last of what I wanted into my school rucksack. A change of clothes, my favourite hoody, a bag of sunflower seeds (not exactly the “coolest” of indulgences but munching on them reminds me of when I was a care-free six year old) and my diary; blue beneath the stickers and cinema ticket stubs which now adorned it. Once I’s heaved the bulging rucksack over my shoulders and pulled my plaits from underneath the straps, I walked into the playroom where Dylan sat; king amongst hid teddy bear army. “Hey you.” I cooed at Dylan as I sat down beside him and then lifted him up onto my lap.“You’re such a cute kid, don’t change. Whatever happens, remember me and remember I love you.” My whispers floated their way into his little right ear. I breathed in the aroma of his shampoo-fresh hair and shut my eyes as I did so. My lips kissed his fluffy head for the last time as I felt a lone tear trickle from my shut eye. I wiped my eye and placed Dylan in his cuddly toy kingdom again but I guess he could sense things weren’t quite right. He stretched out his pudgy little arms towards me as I walked out of the room. I turned my back on him. I was halfway down the staircase when I heard his cries. They pierced my heart. Leaving him was killing me but I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t bear to carry on whilst he sat crying though. I turned on my heal and jogged back upstairs and into his room. “Shush, shh, don’t cry babe, you’ll set me off.”I gather him once again in my arms.“Don’t worry kid; I’ll be alright” I hope.“I’ll come home again someday.” I might be home again someday. I carried on comforting Dylan for about five minutes, trying to convince myself more than him that I’d be safe through all of this. I carried him down into the living room with all of this teddies and then left him to play in the living room. Mum was busying herself in the garden close by. I wouldn’t leave Dylan completely alone.I pulled the letter to my mother and father from my pocket and laid it next to the phone. I walked into the hall way and whispered goodbye to the emptiness that surrounded me as I opened the front door and stepped out.

I’m so tired of knowing that tomorrow is simply going to be yet another tacky remake of today. Okay, perhaps “tacky” is a little harsh, what about “pleasant” or “nice”? I’ve lived in the same nice home for all of my sixteen years on this planet with my nice family and every day I tread the same nice steps to my nice school to have conversations with my nice friends that are identical to those I had with them yesterday and the day before that. Are you starting to see what I mean? Each day’s the same around here; the most exciting event to have happened this year was when poor old Mrs. Finbury’s cat, Oscar, was lost. The entire street was in absolute shock that their perfect lives should suddenly be shaken up; their carefully planned routines disrupted for the well-being of a cat, Oscar, that none of them had any particular sympathies for. Oscar seemed to have lost his popularity with the locals as he gained in age because he found it a struggle to remember which of the duplicated gardens in our street belonged to him. Consequently, every one of the gardens was used as Oscar’s very own private lavatory. The very next day, the “panic” was over as Oscar was found nestled cosily on a pile of warm ‘n’ toasty towels in Mrs. Finbury’s airing cupboard.

My parents are the notorious busy-bodies on this street, whom, despite their demanding work-hours as a teacher and a doctor, find time for everyone on this street. Everyone but me, that is. I’m not asking for your pity though, that’s not exactly what I need right now. I suppose that my friends must believe that I live the model life; a doctor for a dad, a teacher for a mum and a gorgeous baby brother. I remember overhearing Sandra and Grace, my two closest friends, telling each other about how great I thought I was with my “perfect” life just a couple of years ago. I never let them know that I’d heard them talking; it’s not as though starting an argument with them would make anything better, I just stopped telling them my private, personal secrets. The looks that I’m given by some people sometimes make me think that the tears that cut down my face that day left scars that are still visible today; I can’t stand people seeing me crying, at my most vulnerable. It was Mrs. Finbury that found me clutching onto the cool, rough bark of my tree, alone in the middle of the tall-grass-covered field. I didn’t own it so I suppose it wasn’t technically mine but that tree was my one place of true sanctuary, away from cars, shops and artificial noise. When I was up in that great, ancient oak it seemed to me as though I was standing on the edge of the world, even though I couldn’t see anything through my teary haze that day. She never told me why she was out walking on her own through the long grass but she offered me a wonderful distraction from my hideous self-pity.

Mrs Finbury was never the awful sort of condescending adult that I can’t stand; she didn’t ask that horrid question “Are you alright?” when it was obviously clear to see that I was nowhere near being “alright”. Instead, she began to tell me about how she used to ball-room dance when she was younger, that was how she’d met her late husband, Eric. Up until that day I’d never spoken to her properly but I guess we must have talked for hours that day because the sun had already slunk lazily off to bed just behind the horizon by the time I’d clambered clumsily from my branch, my left leg suffering from the ache of pins and needles. We hadn’t talked much before then but even I could tell that she simply wasn’t the same since she’d lost Eric; her eyes didn’t twinkle in the way they once had, her steps weren’t filled with a musical rhythm anymore and her warm smiles never quite reached her eyes again, it was almost as though a piece of her was missing. Maybe that’s why I bonded so closely with her, because I felt a though I too was missing a part of me that I so very desperately needed to find.

On my way home I ran what must have been over a thousand excuses as to why I was late home through my mind. I finally decided to tell my parents that I was back from school four hours late because Sandra had wanted me to come with her home on the bus because it was her first time using public transport and she was nervous. Sandra had been on that bus every day for the previous year. I’m not very keen on lying but luckily I didn’t need to lie to my parents, they just wanted me to help looking after my baby brother, Dylan, because Dad was rushing off on an emergency call to the hospital and Mum was in the middle of preparing dinner. I don’t mind Dylan, he can even be quite sweet at times it’s just that whenever I hear Mum’s stressed voice, shrilly shrieking, “Josephine, Josephine! Come and look after Dylan...now!” I become so utterly vexed, I’ve told her repeatedly that the name “Josephine” doesn’t suit me and I’d far prefer it if she called me “Joey”. I can’t see why she’s so adamant to call me by that flowery name when everyone else is comfortable with calling me “Joey”.

Dylan’s two years old now and it’s still my black plaits that he tugs on whenever he wants a hug. He’s just about old enough to go to pre-school now but it still seems as though I’m his permanent baby-sitter because Mum and Dad are forever rushing around throwing dinner parties for neighbours that they don’t like and doing good deeds such as weeding the gardens of the elderly on our street whilst I’m left to pick up the pieces of our home-life.

Since the first day that Mrs. Finbury and I spoke over two years ago, she’s been like a grandma to me. I go over to visit her whenever I just need to talk. Sandra and Grace made it clear that I could no longer feel secure talking to them and as I’ve said, Mum and Dad never seem to be stood in the same place for more than a minute. She’s such a sweet old lady, always so welcoming to me when I stop by. Once I’ve rapped out our secret knocking tune upon her door with my bare knuckles I wait patiently for her to shuffle up to the front door in her slippers. She opens the door wide and grabs at my hand to pull me inside.

“Hello there Joey, come in quickly before you go catching yourself a cold!”

I smile to myself as I close the door behind me knowing that the real reason for her wanting me to hurry is that she doesn’t want to miss the beginning of Countdown.

“Now, Joey, I’ve just baked some short-bread so help yourself, but mind you don’t leave any crumbs behind on my carpet.” She calls sweetly in her sing-song voice form the sitting room.

“Don’t worry Mrs. Finbury, I’ll just get a plate and I’ll join you in a moment.”

I walk down the potpourri scented corridor, savouring the cushion of her plush carpet inbetween my toes (sometime last year Mum and Dad coated the entire house in that awful laminate flooring stuff but the feel of this carpet takes me straight back to my childhood when laminate flooring had yet to attack the floors in my home) and into her 1960’s time-warp of a lounge and sit myself down upon the floor next to her armchair. She has two armchairs, one for her and one that once belonged to Eric. The first time I came to visit I gathered from the way she gazed sadly at the seat that it was Eric’s. She offered me that seat but I told her I’d be just as comfy on her carpet, her smile was so grateful. Oscar pads regally on his furry, ginger paws into the lounge to join us and despite his age he hops gracefully onto Mrs. Finbury’s pouffe and curls up snugly next to her fireplace. We remain sat quietly in front of the television, only speaking to compare our answers and call out the final Countdown conundrum. Once it’s finished, I turn to face Mrs. Finbury to find that she has a lone tear trickling delicately down her wrinkled cheek.

“What’s the matter?” I whisper aghast.

She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat and after a few moments, croaks the words, “Nothing. Never let me worry you.”

“I am worried though. Please, tell me what’s wrong.” I stand and take her old hand between mine and eventually she drags her eyes away from Eric’s old recliner and lands her teary, blue gaze on me instead.

“Eric and I always used to watch these sorts of things together just after he was diagnosed with lung cancer.”

I’d heard of how Eric had died but he was eighty seven years old and I’d naively thought that Mrs. Finbury would be able to accept his death because, after all, he’d made it to such a great age. I went out to the kitchen and returned with a pot of her favourite green-tea and some more of her short bread. We sat eating and drinking in silent communication for the next half hour. Silence can be so sweet at times; we said so much without a single word even passing our lips. When the clock struck six Mrs. Finbury suggested that maybe it was time I started to head home, I asked whether she would be okay.

“Never let me worry you. I’m fine.” She repeats her earlier words.

“You’re certain?” I ask again, concerned.

“I’m fine.”

She walked me to the door and as I hugged her goodbye I breathed in deeply her fragrant scent of perfume and cooking, I then kissed her powdery cheek and began my chilly walk home. Autumn is beautiful; the golden, sun-burnished leaves lay thick blankets upon the ground, it really is stunning...very cold though! I shuffle through the leaves in my already scuffed-up grey trainers; once upon a time they were white. As I carry on along my path | think about Mrs. Finbury being all alone in that house with only Eric’s haunting memory to keep her company. I’ve never really thought of myself as religious but I said a quick prayer to wish Mrs. Finbury some greatly deserved happiness...just in case there is someone or something watching over us.

Argh, why oh why oh why does my alarm insist on screaming at me quite so flaming loudly, this blinking early on a Sunday morning?! So perhaps it’s not exactly screaming as such and ten o’clock isn’t that early and okay, it’s Saturday really, but that doesn’t make my tiredness go away! I roll out of bed, throw on my dressing gown and slippers, and make a slight attempt to rescue my frizzy mop of hair from complete chaos before sleep-walking down the steps and into the kitchen to fix myself some emergency sustenance...ahem, breakfast. I crunch my way through my second slice of warm buttered toast as I contemplate all of the things I can do today; well of course I have an absolute mountain of homework to dig through but maybe I can pop around to see Mrs. Finbury, in fact, I might bake some fairy cakes and take them over to her this afternoon as a kind of “thank you” for yesterday.

I hurriedly shove my keys, purse, lip-gloss and mobile into my favourite purple suede handbag, grab the cake-filled cake tub and yell upstairs to Mum, just to let her know that I’m going out for a while.

“Hey Mum, Mum?”

“Yes, Josephine, what do you want?” It’s Joey! My name is Joey!

“Well, I’m going to make a quick visit to Mrs. Finbury and give her these fairy-cakes. I just thought I’d let you know.”

“You can’t go. Wait there and I’ll be down in a moment.”

What is she on about now? If she’s planning on making me baby-sit again I may just have to go ever so slightly insane, I mean, I love Dylan but he’s not exactly the most sweet-smelling toddler I’ve met. Mum carefully picks her way down the stairs as her vision is currently impaired by the toddler who’s clinging to her hip insisting on covering her eyes with his pudgy little hands. She sits Dylan down on his play-rug where he’s encompassed by cuddly toy animals and then comes over to me. This is odd; she actually looks serious for once. Infact, she looks as though she might cry.

“You can’t go around to Mrs. Finbury’s because she won’t be there, she passed away last night.”

My blood runs cold, like icicles through my veins, but I can still hear it pulsing in my ears, I feel dizzy and so I let myself fall back onto the sofa. Mum sits next to me and I rest my head on her lap, just like I used to when I was about three. She strokes her hand across my hair and tells me about her suicide letter:

Eric,

I’m coming to see you and beyond the clouds I’ll dance with you again in heaven. When I lost you I lost a part of me too, now I’m coming to find the rest of my soul.

Eventually I got off of that sofa and walked to the front door, Mum might have called after me but I can’t really remember. I ran and ran, my feet pounding over the pavement almost as heavily as my heart was thudding in my chest, until I reached my oak tree in the huge secluded field. I’d managed to blink my tears away back at home so as Mum couldn’t see me cry, like I said, I can’t stand anyone seeing me look that weak, but as I dug my fingers onto the bark I felt hot trickles rushing down my cheeks. I remained on my branch, almost in an embrace with the tree, repeating her last words to me, “I’m fine” over and over again in my mind. At first I felt distraught but then I felt a different kind of devastation, I was angry. I was so furious at her for having left me behind,

“You’re the only person in this whole world I can really talk to and now you’ve abandoned me!” I screamed and wailed and bawled all of the pain that had built up inside of me until my throat burned and all I could do was sob.

When I found myself to be entirely cried out and head-ache ridden I walked as slowly as I could home, absolutely dreading coming into contact with anyone. Something in her letter had gotten to me though,”...find the rest of my soul”. Maybe I could have a go at doing that. She was so much like I am or rather I am so much like she was; the only difference is that she once had all of her soul and she just wanted that back, I still need to find my missing piece. That’s what I have to do now, to honour Mrs. Finbury; I’m going to find the rest of my soul.

Saturday, 16 May 2009

Minky has returned from the cavernous depths of my jumpers, cardigans and hoodies...my wardrobe...xD FTW *For The Wolf*My lovely mommy helped me to search for her and it turned out that I'd left her in the top compartment of my wardrobe where I'd been hiding my secret supply of chocolate. It's brilliant to have her back. and to everyone that was kind and comforting to me, thankyou so much, it's honestly means more than you could know.When I was really little, I'd make Minky tell me that things were all going to be okay. whenever my folks had an argument or i had a gritty day at school, I had her there with me and so yeah..she's really important. *feeling mighty embarrassed now* hush now, 'tis a secret!!'twas the semi-finals of a mock magistrate competition which I've been doing recently today. We came second. We were awesome, i reckon we should have won. The winning team were good but we played against them and tbh, I really didn't think they were great. I was a witness this time and I managed to keep my act together *hurrah* FTEW For The Epic Wolf I really enjoyed it :DI was kinda gutted we didn't win but what can you do, eh?? Our best wasn't quite good enough in their eyes but it isn't the end of the world now is it?I learnt a great way to make your oen life seem amazing. Close your eyes and think about the worst thing that could ever happen. Think about it, focus on it, believe it's real. Feel those emotions and just when you think it can't get any worse, open your eyes. It's all in your imagination and thing's aren't really so bad....better? just a bit? tidbit? at least i tried :)

Friday, 15 May 2009

Those of you whom know me well (hope I used, "whom" in the right context!) are aware that I love monkeys and that I have a small collection of cuddly toy monkeys. The oldest one is named Minky and I've had her since I was seven. I lost her last night. She's somewhere in my house but I've looked everywhere and I just can't find her. She cost me 39pence from some second hand shop or other and I know I'm being silly but I really need her back. For a lot of my life, she's been with me and I need her. I can't even sleep properly without her. I kept waking up all night. I really need Minky back. This probably all makes me sound childish and imbecilic but I know I'm not the only one who has a remnant from their childhood that they love more than a lot of things.Today's been pretty good, i aquired Tommy's tye and wore it for a couple of hours (mwa ha ha). I'm so smug that I know how to tie a tye now though xD A lot of things to make me smile have been around today but I just really want Minky back.

Thursday, 14 May 2009

Hey there!!Yet another addition to the list of things which Kate ain't great at!!! :oI wanted to try something new but the main reason was because I have a fear of heights and from experience, I've found that the best way of overcoming something like that is to look the fear in its eye and say, "F**k off!"I'm still not great with water but when I was pertrified of that, I jumped off of the top board at the spectrum and now I can face it. I choose to stay away from water for the most part but if ever I need to come into contact with it; I'm alright :DSo, today, when climbing on the easiest wall and I lost my footing, being the foolish fool I am; I shreiked, "Oh mmmmyyyyyyy gooooooooodddddddddddddddd!" in absolute terror. When I got to the bottom, I was shaking so badly, I honestly thought I was gonna just fall over there and then. And then later on, I couldn't get to the top cuz my arms were giving me grief, so I came down and almost cried. I know it was stupid but I had one of those moments when hormones and adrenalin just take over and I thought of all the things I can't do & I got all teary but forced myself to quit acting like an eejit and get a grip! Thank you so much hattie!! you were amazing support and i can't believe how patient you were with me! i'm lucky to have friends like you :DAnyway, it was difficult and nerve wracking but still a great experience and I'm looking forward to next week! and mr. kelly was taking us and you all know I'm kinda fond of him :) DON'T FANCY HIM THOUGH! grrrrrrr >:[oh and for everyone that keeps going on about tommy and I? pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaase just give it a rest!i like him and he likes me but as nothing more than friends. have you really got nothing better to do at lunch than torment poor tommy???

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

To be honest, I did bring it on myself though...'twas my choice to carry on drinking rancid apple juice after all. For all of today, I kept imagning gulping it down and then it made me feel sick again :(*right, moving on...for good!!*I had a mental math test today, I got 27/30 which wasn't too bad but I made a couple of really ridiculous mistakes so I'm kinda bugged at myself. However, we had Mr. Kelly today and well...he's not bad looking so you know, that lesson wasn't too bad... xDFor all you guys that bug me by saying that I fancy everyone...maybe you're right.I'm kidding of course! Just because I'm able to appreciate some people's good looks, that doesn't mean I fancy each of them...so there.Anyway, I'm looking forward to rock-climbing at craggy island after school tomorrow!! I'm going with some friends on a five week free course *yay!* I've never been before but nevertheless, I cannae wait :D

Tuesday, 12 May 2009

....i feel so ill.For the first time in about three or four years, i went sick earlier. lovely, thanks for sharing, kate.anyways, it's late, i'm tired and cannae be arsed to write a great deal.elin, you don't smell like fish *promise*.tommy? i like making up your future, it's funny...what did you think of Josephine/Joanna anyway??

About Me

I talk too much so I decided to vent on a blog-a-log....what does you be reckoning??
There's not a lot to me, I'm a grey, nameless entity who fits the mould of every average teenage girl alive...sounds intriguing, yes??
Anywhooooooo, if you really want to get a feel for who I am, READ MA BLOGGINESS....do it!!!!
*please*
:D